Air was thick and heavy, a humid fist wrapped tight around Maya and Arjun. Fronds of giant ferns, dinner-plate big, strained sunlight into emerald spears that dappled the jungle floor. They were invisible here in this sanctum of leafy, twiggy boughs to the world outside the curtain of green.
Curiosity tugged at Maya's sleeve. Arjun quaked with apprehensions. His dark, big, and alert eyes flitted towards the rim of the forest where sounds of far-off voices and mechanical hum floated in, an ominous reminder of the world that existed just outside their haven. It was a ragged sound, akin to that of a bird with a wing slightly injured, and Maya sighed. She reached out to brush a stray curl from Arjun's forehead; a touch that promised to protect him from all that was unknown. "Those Lost Ones out there, Arjun," she began, her voice barely a whisper. "They aren't like us, not really. They've been poisoned, son, by their hunger for things that weren't meant to be messed with."
Arjun's brow furrowed. "But why, Mom? Why are they like that? And why are we hiding here?"
Maya squared her shoulders. The truth tasted sour, but Arjun deserved it. "We are the humans, Arjun," she started saying, voice firm and words clear. "Our people chose a different way long ago. We picked earth, wind, the way things were supposed to be."
Arjun's eyes widened, and incredulity leaped into their depths. "But who would choose to be… like them?"
Maya felt sad. "That's it, darling. People's desire for dominance is what makes them blind. They played with the very fabric of life, and it has been their downfall. Now they are slaves to their own creations, bound by their own greed."
Her words seemed to hang oppressively in the very air. One would have thought that the jungle, too, had paused to listen. Embracing each other in the hushed silence, Maya wrapped her arm around Arjun; their love was a small flame that flickered in the darkness. Here, in this hidden sanctuary, they were the last embers of a dying fire. But Maya would not let it go out. Just as the last rays of sunlight speared their way through the leaves, she reached for a worn knife in her belt—the glint a silent promise. They would survive. And they would teach, so that one day perhaps the world on the other side of the trees would remember the forgotten melody of life lived in harmony with nature.